


Pressure 6: Resistance

by grey853



Series: Pressure [6]
Category: XF - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:37:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship is strained when Mulder resists any efforts to help him deal with his trauma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure 6: Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to XFreak for proofing and being such a good supporter.

Title: Pressure 6: Resistance  
Author: Grey  
Fandom: XF  
Pairing: Mulder/Skinner  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: New/Complete  
Archive: Yes  
Email: [Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com)  
Series/Sequel: Sixth and most likely the last of the Pressure series  
Website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net>

Notes: Thanks to XFreak for proofing and being such a good friend. Any mistakes are my own doing. 

Disclaimers: Not mine. 

Summary: The relationship is strained when Mulder resists any efforts to help him deal with his trauma. 

* * *

**Pressure 6: Resistance**  
by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Resistance)

* * *

Fingers traced the inside of his thighs, each touch followed by a quick kiss and nip as his cock woke up and said good morning. "Jesus, Mulder." 

"Just relax. I'm checking the plumbing." 

"I think it's working." 

"I can see that." Pubic curls muffled the laugh as Mulder took a dive down and found his balls, each one lifted and fondled, the sensation a slow drag on his heart, his lungs playing catch up. 

Words went into hiding as he spread his legs and drew up his knees. Mulder parted his cheeks and used his tongue to bathe the pucker greedily, his finger pushing inside. His whole body shivered at the touch, the rippling heat sailing up and down his spine as his lover alternated between sucking and blowing while using his thumb to spread the hole wider. His hips bucked and rode out the persistent probes, the scrape of whiskers on tender skin, the slickness running down as Mulder used even his teeth and spit to increase the sensation enslaving his body. 

Muscles tightened their grip on his bones, every tendon drawing in, the pressure inside his skull near breaking. Stroking his own cock, each thrust matched Mulder's. Sweat beaded and raced the flame winding through his middle, his very breathing stalled as the tension reached a sudden plateau before exploding into a massive world of splinters, sparkles of spinning firelights. His back arched up, stilled before spasm, the jerking wrenching him to screaming. The storm plowed through and kept coming, the blindness lighted only by flashes of reds and yellows against a screen of nothing but black. 

Finally the stillness settled in and he found Mulder holding him, cradling him in his arms with a slow rocking. "Damn." Anything more came out in strained huffs as he caught his breath again. 

After a while, Mulder kissed his forehead. "Did I ever mention how much I love you for breakfast?" 

"And did I ever mention how much I love how you do me?" 

Smiling, his face smug again, Mulder slid down without answering and lay beside him on his back, his good arm back behind his head, the broken wrist on his belly. For the first time in weeks, he actually looked contented. "You know what?" 

"What?" 

"I slept last night without dreaming." 

"I noticed." 

"I mean, I woke up a couple of times, but I got through the whole night without a single nightmare." 

"I think that's great." He cupped his face, his hand stroking lightly, the morning beard a fine burn against his palm. 

"But?" 

"But what?" 

"But, you still think I should see somebody." 

Taking a deep breath, Walter sat up and leaned back against the head board before pulling up the sheets and reaching for his glasses. "Mulder, we've talked about this. Just because Killion didn't work out, that doesn't mean this is over. It's been another two weeks and you still haven't made an appointment to see anyone else." 

Suddenly angry, Mulder got out of bed, his right hand fisted. "I don't know why you have to be such a hardass about this." 

"Because I love you." 

"And this is how you show it? Trying to get me in to see some shrink? I can do this on my own, and I don't need you or Scully trying to run my life." 

"We're not doing that, and why are you so pissed off all of a sudden?" 

"I'm not pissed off." 

"You could've fooled me." 

Frowning, his hair fell down in bangs making him look even more like a lost school boy. Mulder got his sweat pants off the chair and pulled them on while he spoke, his words still charged up and breathy. "I'm just frustrated. You keep pushing when I keep telling you I'm going to be okay." 

"I'm not pushing you. I'm just suggesting. You admitted yourself that you're still having some problems." 

"Well, yeah, who wouldn't?" 

"Which is my point." 

"What point?" 

"If a person on one of your cases went through what you have, wouldn't you recommend counseling?" 

Mulder sat on the edge of the bed, and stayed quiet before he finally answered. "I hate when you do that." 

"Do what?" 

"Make so much sense." 

"Really?" Running his hand along the outer edge of the fading bruises, Walter leaned closer and kissed his shoulder, nuzzling there while he teased, "I thought that was what you liked most about me, my sensible side." 

"You're delusional." 

"So, what is it you like best then?" 

Turning, his body crawling back on the bed as he wrapped his arms around his middle, Mulder took several long breaths before he whispered. "This is going to sound corny." 

"What?" 

"My favorite part is that you know all about me and you still love me." 

"What's not to love?" 

"I'm not kidding." The tone came out hurt, almost fragile. 

Squeezing him tighter, Walter spoke quietly, his voice as hushed as morning prayers. "Neither am I." 

* * *

Mulder pushed the eggs around his plate as he stared off, his eyes unfocused. 

"Mulder? I asked you a question." 

"What?" 

"I asked if you and Scully were any closer to ending the Gates case?" 

"The Gates case?" 

"Yeah, you know the Civil War ghost case." Walter got up for more coffee and leaned back on the counter as he observed. His partner's body joined him for breakfast, but his mind was definitely elsewhere. 

"Maybe. I don't know. Scully's still tracking down some leads." 

"And what about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"Mulder, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing. I'm just thinking. 

"About?" 

"It's weird, but ever since I got back to work last week, I keep having the feeling someone's been going through my stuff. In the morning things are moved around." A chill stopped the air for a split second, just long enough for Walter to swallow too hard. "Walter?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Do you know anything about that?" 

"Should I?" As soon as he said it, he knew the mistake. Another lie made his list too long to deal with. 

"Are you saying you don't? Why do you suddenly look so damn guilty?" 

He put the cup down before he spoke, his words chosen carefully to mitigate the damage and contain the explosion. "I can't say for sure." 

"Can't say what?" 

"I think Spender's probably the one going through your things." 

"Spender? Why the fuck would you think that?" 

"Probably because I saw him there the night you were in the hospital." 

"What? And you didn't tell me?" 

"To be honest, I didn't really think about it." 

Mulder stood up, his face twisted both with confusion and anger, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Didn't think about it? What are you telling me? That seeing that son of a bitch in my place didn't even bother you enough to mention? Or maybe you really think if you'd told me, I'd go off and do something impulsive like kick his sorry ass." 

"Would you settle down and listen?" 

"Listen to what? More bullshit?" 

"I just need to tell you what happened, and I can't do that if you're like this." 

"Like what? Pissed because you're doing it again." 

"Doing what?" 

"Deciding what I can and can't handle." 

"I don't do that." 

"Liar." 

"Shit, Mulder would you please just calm down?" 

"I don't want to calm down." 

"I can see that. Look, I'll tell you the whole story, but you've got to just sit down and not act like I'm your worst enemy." 

The battle waged between his eyebrows, the folds pronounced and changing as he finally decided. Sitting down slowly, he placed both hands on the table as if to steady himself. "Okay. I'm listening." 

"A lot of things happened that night." 

"I know. I got locked up in a psyche ward." 

"You weren't the only one held against his will." 

His eyes flashed up to meet his. "What are you talking about?" 

"When I was leaving work, Krycek nabbed me. Took me by gun point to some place across town." 

"Why the hell would he do that?" 

"He warned me that Spender had a tape of us together. Remember that night when you moved in after your wrist was broken, that first time we made out on the couch?" 

"You mean the night you wouldn't fuck me no matter how hard I begged?" 

He ignored the taunt and kept his voice even. "Spender somehow got a tape of that." 

"Shit." Mulder ran his hand back through his hair, the strain of understanding shadowing his eyes. "Okay, so technology being what it is, that could happen. Still, why would Krycek know about it and then tell you?" 

"I don't know." 

"It doesn't make any sense. The bastard hates me. I'd think he'd love the fact if we were outed." 

Walter tilted his head, watching as his lover drew in, his voice more hushed. "Mulder, he told me about the two of you." 

He jerked back with the slap of the words, the pain narrowing his eyes. "Shit." 

"You could've told me." 

"It was stupid." 

"Did you care about him?" 

He kept his head down, his hands cupped between his legs. "No. I never really cared about any of the men or women I slept with after Edward. They were just cocks or cunts in the dark, something to keep me from sleeping alone." The sorrow weighted the words, each one like a sharp blade to his gut. 

"Jesus, Mulder." 

"I know. I warned you about my past." 

"I don't care about who you've been with. It just sounds so lonely." 

"It was. After Krycek it was even worse. I let him fuck me and he betrayed me. It made me sick to think about. I couldn't get it out of my head, and I kept going from one person to another trying to find a way to forget about it." 

"But it didn't work." 

"No. I just felt more and more like shit. That's sort of why Scully kept ragging me about changing my choices." 

"Thank god for that." And he did. He couldn't imagine his life without Mulder anymore. 

"I still don't understand why Krycek would tell you about Spender, and how did he even know?" 

Walter shrugged, not sure how Mulder would react to the next tidbit. "Well, apparently they're lovers." 

"Fuck. Alex and Spender? You're kidding." 

"No, and unless I miss my guess, Spender's in love with the guy." 

"Poor fuck." 

"Yeah." 

"Still, that doesn't explain how he got the tape or why he didn't use it right away." 

"I don't know how he got it, but I'm assuming he was going to use it to squeeze out a deal to get whatever he wanted." 

"Which would be my ass and the X-files." 

"Probably." 

"But you got the tape, right?" 

"I got the tape. I warned him if it ever came out, I had one of Krycek sucking him off to follow." 

"Really? And do you?" 

"Do I what?" 

"Have a tape of Krycek and Spender doing it?" 

"No, but he doesn't know that." 

Mulder relaxed a little and then rubbed his chin while he thought for a second. "I still don't understand why it is that you didn't think it was strange that Spender was in my office." 

"I was still kind of groggy." 

"Groggy?" 

"Krycek drugged me before he left. I felt like shit when I woke up. I wasn't thinking of anything other than getting the tape." 

Nodding, Mulder accepted the explanation and then suddenly smiled. "So, have you watched our tape yet?" 

"No." 

"Want to?" 

"Mulder, why would I want to watch us on tape?" 

"You've never watched a hot tape before?" 

"If you mean porn, yeah, but it's never done much for me." 

"Really?" Standing, Mulder eased over to Walter, his body pressed against his front as he walked his fingers along his jawline. "You're not off the hook yet. I don't like it when you keep secrets, but..." 

"But what?" 

He humped his erection into Walter's groin, his arousal burning through the cloth. "But I want to see the video." 

"I don't think that's a good idea." 

"Why not?" He angled his head and nibbled on his neck, the tiny nips like strong strokes to his cock. "I like video." 

"We've got to go to work." 

"You're the boss. You can go in late." A tongue licked his ear, teeth scraping the outer part gently while his lover massaged his groin. 

"I've got a meeting in forty-five minutes." Words became puffed, all airy and panting. 

Zipper lowered, Mulder's hand snaked in and wrapped his universe in fire. "I think it's going to be postponed." 

"God, yeah." 

* * *

Mulder could've been a stalker. He had all the moves. Waiting and watching for the right moment to corner Spender took only until the afternoon. He walked in behind him as the man stepped into the supply room and shut the door. "Hey, Jeff, old buddy. What's up?" 

"Mulder, what are you doing?" Even in the low light the fear glowed. 

"Just doing a surveillance job. I'm trying to find out who keeps poking through my things every night." Stepping closer, he pushed into the other man's space as Spender backed into the corner of the confined area. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Don't lie to me. Skinner told me he saw you there." 

"Then he told you about the tape." 

He couldn't help the grin, the memory of the turn on and the second morning session with Walter nudging his cock even as he stood next to Spender. "Oh, yeah, I've seen the tape. I have to admit the quality was pretty good considering it was taken at night and you would've had to be in another building across from ours to get it. Damn clever." 

"I didn't make the tape." The words came out in a stutter. 

"Really? Who did?" 

"I don't know. It just showed up in the mail. I thought it was from Alex." 

"And was it?" 

"He said no, but you can't believe much of what he says." 

Mulder tweaked his chin, the intimidation of his presence a rush. "But he's a great fuck, right?" 

The shock registered with the truth. "You son of a bitch. You've been with him, too." 

"The whole city and most of Russia has been with Alex Krycek. He's like some sick joke, using his ass and cock to get what he wants." 

"Not to mention his mouth." 

"No, we couldn't forget his mouth." 

"Oh, god." 

The crack in Spender's voice startled him, the pathetic sound breaking the powerful need to push harder. He backed away a little before he spoke. "Do you have any idea who sent you the tape if it wasn't Krycek?" 

"Not really. Though I have to admit I was kind of shocked." 

"Shocked because someone bothered to send it to you or because we were on it?" 

"Both. I mean, I knew you would fuck anything that moved, but I never knew Skinner went for men. I mean, he was married for what, 17 years?" 

"Fuck anything that moves?" 

"It's your reputation. Everyone knows you're a slut." 

"Maybe, but I wouldn't fuck you." 

"Not that I'd want you to. Shit. Could we just stop this little bitchfest? You've got the tape, what more do you want? 

"I want you to stay the hell away from my desk and my office. I want you to tell me if you find out anything about the tape. And I want you to understand if you ever do anything to hurt Skinner with this, I'll make your life hell." 

"Like it's not already? Damn it. I told Skinner I wouldn't do anything. I mean, I'm not going to mess with him after what he did to Henderson." 

Mulder caught himself against the wall, the unexpected spin sending him to the side. "What do you mean after what he did to Henderson? What do you know about that?" 

"Why don't you ask Skinner?" 

He surged forward, his whole body slamming into Spender, his fear and frustration behind the move. "Tell me." 

"I don't know the whole story. I just know the rumor is that Skinner somehow managed to breach security at his base and take him out. They say Henderson's cock was cut off and stuffed down his throat, too." 

The gagging came out of nowhere as he pushed Spender away so he could fall to his knees and empty his stomach. Bitter coffee spewed out with the bile, poured out with the hatred in long heaving spasms. Behind him he heard Spender curse and exit the room in a hurry, closing the door, leaving him to be sick on his own. The world blackened as he struggled to breathe and finally control the retching. He settled with his back to the wall, wiping the mess away with his hand, his head swimming. 

Only one question played over in his mind. God, Walter, what did you do? 

* * *

"Mulder, you look terrible. What's wrong?" 

He steadied himself at his desk, his mouth still foul despite attempts to rinse away the sickness. "I'm fine. Just a little queasy." 

"From what? Did you sneak out and have lunch without me?" 

He lifted the ginger ale can in a mock toast and forced a grin. "You caught me. Serves me right." 

"At least you're eating again, but it doesn't do you much good if you can't keep it down. Pretty soon we're going to wear the same size." 

"Can't wear your pumps though." 

"No, but there's this place I know that carries larger sizes for guys who like to dress up." 

While he pretended to look through a file, she stepped closer, her face concerned. "Seriously, Mulder, you look ill. Maybe you should go to the doctor early." 

Startled, he looked up, his mind pulling a blank to the reference. "Doctor?" 

"Yeah, you know, Dr. Morgan." She glanced at her watch as she spoke, her movements tight and efficient as always. "Your appointment's at three. That only gives you an hour. Leave now and I'll drive." 

He stared down at the worn cast, the edges frayed. "I forgot about that." 

"You just told me about it this morning." 

"I did?" 

She stepped closer, a hand on his shoulder, her voice calm and soft. "Mulder, did something happen while you were out?" 

He didn't pull away, but he wanted to, wanted to get up and run right out of the office. Instead he contained himself, put on his best mask and pretended he didn't know that his lover killed and mutilated a man he hated. "Nothing happened. Like I said, I just don't feel well." 

"I've got some antacids if it would help." 

The thought of swallowing anything choked him. He shook his head and stood up, grabbing his coat from the rack. "Let's just go get this thing cut off." 

"Sure." 

She got her things and closed up the office behind them before they walked out together. By the time they got to the car, cold sweat drenched his shirt, the air in the garage no comfort. He climbed in the passenger side without protest and put his head back, the vertigo turning his stomach with a vengeance. 

"Mulder?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Have you thought anymore about seeing Dr. Kossef?" 

"I don't want to talk about that now, Scully." 

"I know this may be bad timing, but you've been putting it off for close to two weeks now." 

"What? Am I on some kind of fucking time table?" The anger rushed out even as he raised his head, his own fierceness jarring. "I'm sorry, Scully. I didn't mean to growl like that." 

"I know." She kept her eyes straight ahead for the most part, but side glances came as she spoke. "I don't mean to nag." 

"Then don't." 

"Are you okay with how you're acting?" 

"And how am I acting?" The frustration returned, not as strong, but still working its way up. 

"You're moody as hell for one thing." 

"I've always been moody. Moody Mulder, that's me." 

"Tell me a new one. Still, you have to know you're having huge mood swings even for you." 

"It's not that bad." 

"It's like walking in the room not knowing where the tripwire is. I never know what's going to set you off. Add to that, and don't snap my head off, you're still not eating." 

"Why would I snap your head off?" 

"Because you usually do when either Skinner or I mention it." 

He stared out the window, the grey winter stoking his heavy mood. "I don't mean to." 

"Mulder, do you trust my judgment?" 

"Shit, Scully, I hate when you ask me that. It always means you're going to say something I don't want to hear." 

"Just answer." 

"Yeah, I trust your judgment." 

"Then trust me on this. You need to see someone." 

"And if I don't?" 

"Then it's only going to get worse. We've talked about this before. You keep avoiding the issue. I know you don't feel comfortable talking to me about it, but just because that bastard Killion fucked up, that doesn't mean every doctor's like that." 

"But I've been doing better. I even slept last night." 

"And that's great, but what happens when things pick up? Right now the cases are slow, but when the stress hits, I'm afraid of what might happen." 

He turned in his seat and studied the solemn face of his partner, the face of a woman who helped tame his life. "You're afraid of working with me?" 

"You're not hearing me." 

"You said you were afraid of what might happen on a case. Are you saying you don't think I should be working?" Her quick glance and sigh answered his question. "You don't trust me. You think I'm going to fuck up. Shit." 

"I didn't say that. Damn it, Mulder, I trust you, but right now, you're not really focused on the X-files. You're too distracted and that's understandable. That's why I think it's important that you deal with it and stop pretending it didn't happen." 

"I'm not doing that." 

"Would you just do me a favor and see Dr. Kossef? If she doesn't work out, then we'll find someone else." 

He didn't want to talk, didn't want to do anything but jump out of the car and get as far away as possible. Finally, he took a deep breath and whispered. "I'll think about it." 

"Promise?" 

"Sure. I'll just add it to the list of things to think about that I don't really want to think about." 

He closed his eyes and put his head back again, his mind stepping around all the mine field of explosive puzzles until he had almost no place to turn in his own thoughts. 

* * *

The arm floated up, free and lighter than the air. He stared at the withered, flaked skin as he sat at the edge of the pool, his body shaking from the cold. Standing up, he dropped his towel on the bench and steadied himself at the side before diving in, the cold smack nearly black out force. He surrendered himself to the water, the baptism that cleansed and renewed him as he started the strokes, one arm coordinated with the other, his legs working to set the pace forward. Forgetting the ache of the wrist, he swam harder until nothing mattered but the turns, reaching the concrete limit and flipping back to do it over and over again. 

He loved swimming, the aloneness of it, the power of doing it until you decided not to, the power of deciding whether to keep going or just stop and go under, to drown under the wet reflective skin of the surface. 

From the distance he heard his name, but he ignored it, his compulsion costing him his last strength, his breathing labored and stretched out to his limit. Finally, the voice cleared and he heard Walter calling out. "Damn it, Mulder. Stop and get out of the water." 

He didn't want to stop, but his body betrayed him, his limbs barely pushing him to the side in time to hang on to the ladder. A strong arm lashed onto his and helped drag him up and get him to the bench, his towel wrapped around him. He shivered in the cold, his head down, his body suddenly too heavy to control. Coughing started as he worked out sputters of water. 

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" 

"Swimming." The word came out wet between the hacking sounds as he got rid of the caustic chlorine traces of the pool. 

Walter rubbed him down all over with the towel, the other people in the gym giving them both a wide berth. "Why didn't you tell me you got your cast off today?" 

"I forgot." 

"So, why didn't you call? I would've taken you." 

"Scully took me." He snatched the towel away and finished drying off. Too tired to stand and stomp off, he looked over to see his lover's soaked condition. "You're all wet." 

"That happens when you're trying to pull a crazy man out of a pool." 

"I'm not crazy." 

"Then why are you acting like this? You wouldn't stop. I've been standing here for fifteen minutes, and I know you've been here longer. I was about ready to jump in." 

"Now that would've been something for the gossip mills tomorrow." 

"I don't give a shit about that. Tell me what's going on in that head of yours." 

"I haven't been able to swim for six weeks. It felt good." 

"But that doesn't mean you have to drown yourself." 

"But I could if I wanted to." 

Walter stilled beside him. "What?" 

"Nothing." 

"Mulder, talk to me here." 

The cold shook down though his body as he wrapped the towel tighter before he stood up. His muscles didn't want to work, wanted to play dead under his skin. "I need to take a shower and get dressed." 

"Mulder, please." 

"Please, what? Forgive you?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Another secret." 

"What secret?" 

"Henderson." 

"Shit." 

"Yeah, shit is right." As he turned, Walter grabbed his shoulder, only to have it shoved away. "Don't touch me." 

Hands up, Walter kept his distance. "Mulder, I swear I was going to tell you." 

"What else are keeping from me?" 

"Let's go home. We can't talk here." 

"There's more, right?" 

"I'm afraid so." 

Mulder took a deep breath, his head pounding, the tremors in his arms and legs making it difficult to stand steady. "I'm really tired of this." 

"Tired of this situation or tired of me?" 

"A little of both right now." The hurt battered through him as he said it, seeing the pain on his lover's face like fists slamming at his chest. Breathing took on more of a challenge as he added, "Let me get dressed and then we'll go home." 

"It's not what you think." 

"That's the problem. It never is." 

* * *

For a change Walter paced and Mulder sat still, too still. 

"I didn't kill him." 

"But you knew he was dead." 

"Yes." 

"And once again, why didn't you tell me?" 

Walter rubbed the back of his neck, his other hand out in front while he spoke, his words strained and tight like they were when he didn't really want to talk. "I didn't know how you'd react." 

"I don't need you to filter the truth." 

"I know that. It's just that when I found out, it was the same night you were in the clinic. Afterwards, well, I just didn't know how to say it." 

Mulder stared back, his face still too calm, too distant from the conversation. "You could've just said the fuck's dead. So, if you didn't kill him, who did?" 

Taking another deep breath, Walter crossed his arms while he spoke, his mind wired and edgy. "Remember the general who got you out of the base?" 

Mulder's eyes narrowed as he thought over the question, his face grim in the low light of the living room. He shook his head, his face still locked in the replay of foggy memory. "I don't remember much of that whole thing, well, except for the assault part and even that's blurry until I go to sleep or if I'm not on guard." 

"On guard?" 

"Yeah, on guard, like making sure I don't think about it too hard, now who's this general?" 

"A friend of mine from Nam. I saved his life while we were there. When you went missing, I couldn't find you. Roger's the one who got you out of there before Henderson did what he really wanted to do." 

Meeting his eyes for the first time, Mulder's face remained passive, the usual play of emotion strangely removed. "Like I didn't know he was going to rape me? I knew what he wanted. Biding his time, the son of a bitch. Keep me drugged, and then do it until he got tired. I know the drill." 

"What do you mean, you know the drill?" 

Instead of answering, he countered with a question. "So, what's Roger got to do with this?" 

"I didn't ask him to do it." 

"He's the one who killed Henderson?" 

"Yeah. I was trying to take a run at Henderson through official channels, but Roger jumped the gun and took the direct route." 

"Official channels? That would never have worked." Mulder sagged back, his body suddenly less stiff as he spoke softly. "It's a nice thought though." 

"Mulder, how do you feel about Henderson being dead?" 

"I don't give a fuck." His voice picked up speed and energy. "No, that's not true. I would've liked to have been there, seen the man go down, listened while he took his final breath. Still, it's nice to know your friend has a flair for irony." 

"Shit. You even know about the mutilation?" 

"Yeah. Old Jeffrey was full of details. Except he was pretty damn sure it was you." 

"A lot of people think that, but we were under surveillance after you got back. Otherwise, I'd probably be arrested by now." 

"Arrested? No, more likely erased, picked up in the middle of the night, shot, and dumped somewhere. That's more their style." 

"Who?" 

"The Pentagon. The bastards." 

Mulder crossed his arms, his eyes closed as he spoke toward the ceiling. "I just wish you'd stop screening what you think I can handle, like you don't trust me any more than Scully does." 

Sitting down beside him, his hand across the back of the couch, not quite touching but close, he asked quietly, "Do you think I don't trust you?" 

"If you did, you wouldn't keep doing this. What else haven't you told me?" 

"Roger and I were lovers in Nam." The laugh filled the room, loud and unexpected and nasty. "Why is that funny?" 

"It's not." 

"Then why the fuck are you laughing?" 

Mulder sat up, the hysteria building, the terrible guttural sounds ugly and out of control. He held his stomach as he leaned forward, the tears streaming down his face, his mouth contorted. Slowly, the sobs wracked his body as he struggled to talk only to have the garble smothered with another round of coughing. 

"Jesus, calm down." Grabbing Mulder, he pulled him closer, the struggle against his chest meager, barely there as woeful breathing choked and rattled. Arms wrapped his waist as he stroked his hair and rubbed the back of the man crying in his arms. 

After several long minutes, Mulder stopped rocking in his arms and finally pulled away. Reaching to the side table, he grabbed some Kleenex and blew his nose before he finally spoke past the clogged throat. "I'm sorry." 

"What just happened?" 

"I don't know. I was just thinking of how strange life is." 

"You just figuring that out?" 

"No, but think about it. This man you loved when you were a kid shows up now to save me. Then he not only pulls my ass out of the fire, but he has the skills to take out a man like Henderson. How many ex-lover Marines could do that?" 

Reaching out, Walter eased Mulder back into his arms, cradling the back of his head. Whispering, his voice hushed like another secret, he begged to understand. "Tell me the truth. What just happened?" 

It took a few moments for Mulder to answer, but finally he snuggled in closer, his grip tight around Walter's middle. "The truth is, I don't know. Nothing makes sense anymore. I'm not sure what to do." 

"Then maybe it's time you found out." 

"Let's not start it's time to see a shrink deal again, okay?" 

"I won't if you can answer me one question." 

"What?" 

"Do you want to live?" 

Instead of jerking away, Mulder relaxed, his voice still low against his chest. "Mostly." 

"Mostly? What about when you don't? Is that what you meant at the pool when you said you could drown if you wanted?" 

"I guess so." 

"And when you were in your apartment alone, did you think about it then?" 

"Is this your round about way of asking if I want to kill myself?" 

"Yeah, I guess it is." He held his breath, the wait straining his lungs. 

"I don't want to all the time." 

"But some of the time you do? This is important. Be honest with me." 

"I'll admit there are times when the choice to end it doesn't seem that hard to imagine. And since I'm being so damn honest, yeah, lately that's been more often than not." 

Fighting back his own tears, Walter bit his lip and leaned his head on top of Mulder's. "Then answer me one more question." 

"Okay." 

"Would you shoot me first?" 

Jerking away, Mulder sat up and stared, his eyes suddenly wide. "What?" 

"You're sitting here talking about how sometimes you want to kill yourself." 

"I know, but I haven't done it." 

"But you could, and I'm just asking you to be sure to shoot me first, because I swear to god, if you don't, I'll strap your ass down so fast, you won't even see me coming." 

"You think you could stop me?" 

Sagging, his body aching from the constant strain of control, he rubbed his face with both hands, the frustration as weathering as his own whiskers. "No one can stop you if you really want to." He met hazel eyes, eyes filled with both fear and confusion. "I don't know what to say to convince you that your thinking's not right here. Mulder, you know about depression. From what I've seen you've lived with it most of your life, coping the best you can, but then along comes trauma after trauma. You keep getting deeper and deeper into a place you can't get out of alone." 

"I'm not alone anymore." 

Taking Mulder's hand in his, he kissed it. "No, you're not. But I can't save you. You have to save yourself. To do that, you're going to have to try something different, something that's not going to land you in a coffin or an urn somewhere." Lowering his head, Mulder's hand against his forehead, he battled with the words. "I'd never forgive you if you did that. I swear to god I wouldn't." 

A hand fanned out over the top of his head, the heated touch like a blessing. "I'm sorry, Walter. I didn't mean to scare you." 

"You scare me all the time. You've got to stop this shit." 

Resting his head into his lap, Walter drew his legs up and let his body relax while Mulder continued to speak, his voice no longer weak or unsure. "I do know one truth." 

"What's that?" 

"I do love you." 

"Then that's a start. What about the rest?" 

"I'll think about it." 

"Not good enough." 

"Then I'll go tomorrow." He leaned down, the kiss sweet and heated as he held his hand. "Just don't leave me." 

"Leaving's never been an option." 

* * *

The end


End file.
